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Stop a moment, cease your work, and look around you.
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The glory of a workman, still more of a master workman, that he does his work well, ought to be his most precious possession; like the honor of a soldier, dearer to him than life.
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It is a vain hope to make people happy by politics.
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A fair day's wages for a fair day's work.
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Wonderful Force of Public Opinion! We must act and walk in all points as it prescribes; follow the traffic it bids us, realize the sum of money, the degree of influence it expects of us, or we shall be lightly esteemed; certain mouthfuls of articulate wind will be blown at us, and this what mortal courage can front?
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In every phenomenon the beginning remains always the most notable moment.
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The vulgarity of inanimate things requires time to get accustomed to; but living, breathing, bustling, plotting, planning, human vulgarity is a species of moral ipecacuanha, enough to destroy any comfort.
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All evil is like a nightmare; the instant you stir under it, the evil is gone.
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When the oak is felled the whole forest echoes with it fall, but a hundred acorns are sown in silence by an unnoticed breeze.
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Habit and imitation--there is nothing more perennial in us than these two. They are the source of all working, and all apprenticeship, of all practice, and all learning, in this world.
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Labor is life: from the inmost heart of the worker rises his God-given force, the sacred celestial life-essence breathed into him by Almighty God!
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Histories are a kind of distilled newspapers.
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One is hardly sensible of fatigue while he marches to music.
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Talk that does not end in any kind of action is better suppressed altogether.
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Evil and good are everywhere, like shadow and substance; inseparable (for men) yet not hostile, only opposed.
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High Air-castles are cunningly built of Words, the Words well bedded also in good Logic-mortar; wherein, however, no Knowledge will come to lodge.
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He that has a secret should not only hide it, but hide that he has it to hide.
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Evil, once manfully fronted, ceases to be evil; there is generous battle-hope in place of dead, passive misery; the evil itself has become a kind of good.
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And man's little Life has Duties that are great, that are alone great, and go up to Heaven and down to Hell.
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A noble book! all men's book!
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Man is a tool-using animal.
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All deep things are song. It seems somehow the very central essence of us, song; as if all the rest were but wrappages and hulls!
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The Christian must be consumed by the conviction of the infinite beauty of holiness and the infinite damnability of sin.
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No person was every rightly understood until they had been first regarded with a certain feeling, not of tolerance, but of sympathy.